Be With You All Your Days
by Otie1983
Summary: Another challenge from CSIFO, this time with a Thanksgiving theme. 1000 words is really not enough for me, I feel abrupt... but I'm just wordy like that. Enjoy and then head over to CSIFO! It's an order!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** A hoy hoy. Another FF challenge from CSIFO. This one was a "First Thanksgiving" theme one... I chose Option C, where we could pick which 'First' it was. So it's _sort of_ a continuation of my last challenge entry, in that it's their first Thanksgiving since Grissom lost his mother. Though the evil, evil folks at CSIFO decided yet AGAIN to make it a 1000 word maximum - I seriously think they secretly enjoy torturing wordy people. At least this time I actually had a whole word to spare - came in at 999!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing, really. Anything I did own once is now the property of the two puppers in my pic... and unless they can eat CSI, they have no interest in owning it. Om nom nom Grissom? Eep.

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><p><em>I'll always be there when you need me,<br>__I'm only a lifetime away,  
><em>_It's so beautiful how you spent this evening,  
><em>_And I'm proud of you for how you've lived your days_

-"Dancing" Peter McVeigh

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><p>The house was quiet, save for the occasional groans from a sleeping Hank at his feet. Every now and again the boxer would bark himself awake and give Grissom a bleary eyed stare, questioning why they had yet to move to the bedroom. A grimace and a softly spoken "Soon, boy," were given each time the scene repeated itself. Each time Grissom would look at the clock, surprised at how much time had passed, and then resume his staring into nothingness.<p>

It was during one of these moments that Sara made her way from the bedroom searching for her missing husband. Hank, hearing her movement ahead of seeing her, let out a low warning chuff, followed by his tail thumping and a happy snuffle on recognition of his 'mother'. Grissom instead scowled down at the dog's sudden liveliness, before turning his gaze onto Sara and flushing at the knowledge she had obviously noted his absence from their bed.

"I have a feeling _soon_ has come and gone, Gil," Sara spoke as she took the final steps towards him.

"I know, I just..." trailing off his eyes unfocused and watered before he shook his head and sighed.

As Sara tried to think of how to approach whatever was bothering Grissom, Hank decided to add his thoughts on the matter via a long series of whiney barks, before throwing himself headfirst and going belly up at Grissom's feet. Covering her mouth to hide her smile and stifle any laugh, Sara watched as Hank continued to squirm and lick her husband's ankle.

"Thank you, Hank." Reaching a hand down he patted the dog's cheek. Sighing he flicked his eyes to meet with Sara's, "It's Thanksgiving tomorrow."

"Uh," finding herself completely stumped on how to respond, Sara blinked a couple of times. The two of them had never really made much of a fuss over Thanksgiving in all the years they had known each other. Before they were a couple, Grissom only ever acknowledged it with her to ask if she wanted the time off or if he could put her on the roster so someone else could get it off. Now that she thought of it, that didn't really change after they started dating. Since they'd been married, even since they were apart while he did work elsewhere, they actually preferred to book getting together _around_ holidays, as prices and other general insanity went up around them. In fact, the only reason he was here this year was because he was taking a year off after his mother... "Oh, sweetie,"

Glancing back up at her, Grissom nodded, "Yeah. It's not like she and I really did anything special. Last time we even had a family dinner was the year before my Dad died. After that, we stopped bothering. I mean, the only other family we had was my one uncle and he always said holidays were great for him to work, since so few other tradesmen did. So it didn't really make sense for my Mom to go to all the effort of a big special meal when it was just the two of us. So," pausing, Grissom shrugged and shook his head, "I don't know why it's getting to me."

"Gil," Sara knelt in front of him and gently traced circles with her fingertips on his knees, "I get it. The first holiday after my Dad died, I felt so lost. It wasn't even that I was missing spending a holiday with him, since well, holidays weren't exactly great to begin with. It was that it was a day that reminded me that he was _gone_, more than other days did. Him missing your average Tuesday night dinner didn't stand out, but not having him for a holiday? It made me realize all the other things I wasn't going to have him there for, and _that_ is what got to me. What's likely getting to you, too," squeezing his knee, she watched as her words sunk in to Grissom.

"I guess, there's just _so_ much that I wish she could be here to see. That I know she wanted to see happen. I feel like, _God_, I feel like I've let her down," a shuddering breath escaped him as the tears began to sting at his eyes, "I know she'd always wanted grandkids. For years she'd tell me that work was nice and all, but that there was so much more. I just would shrug it off, figure it would happen if it happened. Once we were married, well, you know she was always asking about when we would have children. I thought, oh hell, I thought we'd _think_ about it in a few years. Everything she'd wanted, I didn't listen, and I just continuously let her down!" A sob caught in his throat as he covered his mouth and closed his eyes to the tears.

"Gil!" grabbing his face and forcing him to look her in the eye Sara gently kissed his nose before continuing. "She wanted those things _for_ you, not _of_ you. She wanted your happiness above all else, and since those were the things that made her happy, she thought it would make you happy too. She was _always_ proud of every single thing you did, and I'm sure she still is, wherever she is." Letting go of his face she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Grissom met her gaze, feeling happy for the holiday for the first time all evening.

"And I'll tell you something else, Gil," playing with his curls, Sara smiled as she spoke, "Just like I _know_ my Dad is out there somewhere, watching in on and over me, I also know _your_ Mom is watching over you. With your Dad by her side."

"Thank you, so much, for understanding, Sara" Grissom whispered as he pulled Sara into a tight hug. Feeling a nose nudging his arm Grissom laughed "And thank you as well, Hank. Shall we all go to bed finally?"

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><p><strong>Post AN:<strong> Also, for the record, I'm in the camp that could lean either way as to who was the negative force in Sara's childhood... since there's no hard evidence either way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note**: There was a reason why I left this one without a complete check. I had been seriously considering writing an uncut version, since the 1K word limit just about killed me with this one. So now that the challenge is over and the deserving winner crowned (Hithui's wonderful story "Thanksgiving Wishes"), I went back in and re-worked this one more how I originally wanted it to flow. Ended up an additional 800 words.

**Disclaimer**: Still don't own... and the dogs tell me they don't want to eat CSI because they're afraid the phenolphthalein will turn their pee pink and the other dogs at the park will tease them. I keep telling them it only turns stuff with a pH of around 8 and up pink... but you know dogs, they never listen to chemistry!

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><p><em>I'll always be there when you need me,<br>I'm only a lifetime away,  
>It's so beautiful how you spent this evening,<br>And I'm proud of you for how you've lived your days_

-"Dancing" Peter McVeigh

The house was quiet, save for the occasional groans from a sleeping Hank at his feet. Every now and again the boxer would bark himself awake and give Grissom a bleary eyed stare, questioning why they had yet to move to the bedroom. A grimace and a softly spoken "Soon, boy," were given each time the scene repeated itself. Each time Grissom would look at the clock, surprised at how much time had passed, and then resume his staring into nothingness.

Thoughts circled his mind. Memories of years past when things had been good, back when he was a young boy. Even memories of when things had been not so good, not bad by any stretch, just emptier. Now, at a time when his life was feeling full again, _life_ happened and it was partly empty yet again. Thoughts of his wife made his stomach churn, how could he think of his life being even remotely empty when he had her sleeping peacefully in his bed? She, who made his life complete, wasn't enough to temper the ache of loss. Guilt and shame filled him as he stared unseeing at the wall across from him, his jaw clenching and unclenching.

He wanted what was gone back. 54 years of spending holidays together, nearly 40 of which were spent just the two of them, and now he was expected to spend his 55th Thanksgiving without her, without his mother? Before he could stop himself, he found he was picturing his mother not as she was, but as she would be that very day. Cursing his knowledge of entomology and rates of decomposition for the thousandth time since her death, he startled Hank yet again.

"Sorry, Hank," mumbled Grissom. "We'll go soon, boy, I promise. I just," pausing to run his hand down his face, Grissom sighed, "I just need to think a bit longer. Soon, though."

The two shortly returned to their quiet. Hank dozed, rather uncomfortably, on Grissom's foot, while Grissom stared into space.

It was during one of these quiet moments that Sara made her way from the bedroom searching for her missing husband. Hank, waking upon hearing her movement ahead of seeing her, let out a low warning chuff, followed by his tail thumping and a happy snuffle on recognition of his 'mother'. Grissom instead scowled down at the dog's sudden liveliness, having not heard Sara's approach, before turning his gaze onto Sara and flushing at the knowledge she had obviously noted his absence from their bed. He had hoped to make his way there before she would have noticed he had gone, not wanting to upset her with his pain.

"I have a feeling _soon_ has come and gone, Gil," Sara spoke as she took the final steps towards him.

"I know, I just..." trailing off his eyes unfocused and watered before he shook his head and sighed.

As Sara tried to think of how to approach whatever was bothering Grissom, Hank decided to add his thoughts on the matter via a long series of whiney barks, before throwing himself headfirst and going belly up at Grissom's feet. Covering her mouth to hide her smile and stifle any laugh, Sara watched as Hank continued to squirm and lick her husband's ankle. A small smile began to touch Grissom's face, followed by a chuckle as Hank wriggled his way across the floor on his back. Breathing a relaxing breath of air, Sara silently thanked Hank for his impeccable timing. _Thank God for dogs!_

"Thank you, Hank." Reaching a hand down Grissom patted the dog's cheek. Sighing he flicked his eyes to meet with Sara's, "It's Thanksgiving tomorrow."

"Uh," finding herself completely stumped on how to respond, Sara blinked a couple of times. The two of them had never really made much of a fuss over Thanksgiving in all the years they had known each other. Before they were a couple, Grissom only ever acknowledged it with her to ask if she wanted the time off or if he could put her on the roster so someone else could get it off. Now that she thought of it, that didn't really change after they started dating. Since they'd been married, even since they were apart while he did work elsewhere, they actually preferred to book getting together _around_ holidays, as prices and other general insanity went up around them. In fact, the only reason he was here this year was because he was taking a year off after his mother... "Oh, sweetie,"

Glancing back up at her, Grissom nodded, "Yeah. It's not like she and I really did anything special. Last time we even had a family dinner was the year before my Dad died. After that, we stopped bothering. I mean, the only other family we had was my one uncle and he always said holidays were great for him to work, since so few other tradesmen did. So it didn't really make sense for my Mom to go to all the effort of a big special meal when it was just the two of us. So," pausing, Grissom shrugged and shook his head, "I don't know why it's getting to me."

"Gil," Sara knelt in front of him and gently traced circles with her fingertips on his knees, "I get it."

"How? How can you get it? Your Mom's still here!" His voice cracked with his accusation. His eyes went wide, terrified that he'd said the worst thing possible and just alienated the only person he had left.

"But she's not, not really. I lost her the day she killed my father. Before that even." Sara paused, waiting to see if her husband had anything to interject. "But that wasn't even my point, Gil. I meant that I get why the _holiday_ is getting to you."

"You're not…" Grissom began with his voice barely audible.

"Upset about what you said?" She finished for him.

"Yeah."

"No, Gil, I'm not. You're hurting; I'm not going to take every word you say as being what you truly feel. Pain makes people say things they don't mean or in ways they didn't intend it. I love you, got it?"

Nodding, Grissom couldn't even bring himself to speak, instead he gripped her hand that still sat on his knee and squeezed it tightly.

"So let me tell you a bit of a story, Gil. The first holiday after my Dad died, I felt so lost. Sure, the circumstances were unique, I was in foster care, my brother was placed with a different family, and my mother was locked up in a psychiatric ward. That's what impacted my day-to-day life, holidays were different. It wasn't even that I was missing spending a holiday with him, since well, holidays weren't exactly great to begin with. It was that it was a day that reminded me that he was _gone_, more than other days did. Maybe because holidays are seen as time to spend with your family. So him missing your average Tuesday night dinner didn't stand out, but not having him for a holiday? That stood out since I _should_ have had him around for the holidays; instead, I was by myself. And being by myself on the holiday made me realize all the other things I wasn't going to have him there for, and _that_ is what got to me. Knowing if he wasn't there for Thanksgiving or Christmas, he wouldn't be there for my graduation, or when I got married. That's what's likely getting to you, thinking about the things she won't be here for in the future even more than what she's not here for in this moment." Squeezing his knee, she watched as her words sunk in to Grissom.

"I guess, there's just _so_ much that I wish she could be here to see. That I know she wanted to see happen. I feel like, _God_, I feel like I've let her down," a shuddering breath escaped him as the tears began to sting at his eyes, "I know she'd always wanted grandkids. For years she'd tell me that work was nice and all, but that there was so much more. I just would shrug it off, figure it would happen if it happened. Once we were married, well, you know she was always asking about when we would have children. I thought, oh hell, I thought we'd _think_ about it in a few years. Everything she'd wanted, I didn't listen, and I just continuously let her down!" A sob caught in his throat as he covered his mouth and closed his eyes to the tears.

"Gil!" grabbing his face and forcing him to look her in the eye Sara gently kissed his nose before continuing. "She wanted those things _for_ you, not _of_ you. She wanted your happiness above all else, and since those were the things that made her happy, she thought it would make you happy too. You never let her down Gil, don't even think that way! She was _always_ proud of every single thing you did, and I'm sure she still is, wherever she is." Letting go of his face she pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

Grissom met her gaze, replaying the words Sara spoke over and over in his mind. _For you, not of you_. Such a novel concept for Grissom, he had always thought the two were one and the same. But each time he replayed the words, he saw how true it was. From the time he was a little boy, and his mother encouraged him to do well in school, where she cheered every _A+_ he ever got and reassured him whenever he struggled. Even as an adult, when his mother would question when he'd settle down, she always questioned his happiness, and accepted what he told her. Feeling happy for the first time all evening, Grissom leaned in and kissed Sara softly, thanking her for her kindness.

"And I'll tell you something else, Gil," playing with his curls, Sara smiled as she spoke, "Just like I _know_ my Dad is out there somewhere, watching in on and over me, I also know _your_ Mom is watching over you. With your Dad by her side."

"Thank you, so much, for understanding, Sara" Grissom whispered as he pulled Sara into a tight hug. Feeling a nose nudging his arm Grissom laughed "And thank you as well, Hank. Shall we all go to bed, so we can be awake to actually _enjoy_ Thanksgiving together?"

Hank pushed off Grissom with a chipper bark, and trotted towards the bedroom, stopping only briefly to look back at his parents as if to say "_Hurry up already Mom and Dad… I want some cuddles!_"


End file.
